


i don't fucking care

by starkidpatronus



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Apologies, Arthur Pendragon Returns, M/M, Magic, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 12:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15243417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkidpatronus/pseuds/starkidpatronus
Summary: you've been out all night,i don't know where you've been.you're slurring all your words,not making any sense.but i don't fucking care at all.





	i don't fucking care

**Author's Note:**

> title and summary taken from "idfc" by Blackbear.

                “Where have you _been?_ ”

                “Out.”

                Merlin takes a deep breath, slowly breathing out on a ten-count. It doesn’t work. Through gritted teeth, he replies, “Yeah, I got that part. I want to know _where_ , precisely.”

                “What does it matter?” Arthur tosses back, infuriatingly casual as he kicks off his shoes and plops onto the sofa. “I’m back now.”

                “It _matters_ because something could have _happened_ ,” Merlin explains, using his I’m-talking-to-a-five-year-old voice. “You could have gone somewhere unsafe and gotten _hurt_.”

                “Well, I didn’t.” Arthur is now flicking through channels on the telly.

                “You could have contracted some disease!”

                “I think I’d know if I had!”

                “Some diseases are asymptomatic!”

                “My God, why do you _care_ so much?”

                Merlin scoffs, shaking his head, looking down at the ground. Not even bothering to temper the bitterness in his voice, he spits, “You know, you fucking got me.” Turning on his heel, he exits into his bedroom, slamming the door and not caring about how cliché that is.

***

                It’s three hours later when he hears a soft knock on his door. “Merlin?” Arthur’s voice seeps through, quiet and as close to hesitant as Arthur gets. “Can I come in?”

                Merlin considers replying petulantly, just for the satisfaction of it. But if Arthur is extending a rare olive branch, Merlin would be as much of an idiot as Arthur says he is if he didn’t take it. Thus, he murmurs a spell, and the door creaks open.

                Arthur stands there for a second, looking a little lost. Then, he pads into the room, eyes cast down. There’s a moment when he continues looking down, while Merlin looks at him with raised eyebrows over the edge of his book. The tension grows in the silence to an almost unbearable point, but Merlin’s grown used to long silences. He can bear it.

                It’s Arthur’s move.

                Finally, Arthur looks up, those piercing blue eyes meeting Merlin’s gaze as he says, “I’m sorry.”

                “What for?” Merlin tosses back. “All you did was go ‘out.’”

                “I should have told you where I was going,” Arthur continues, shaking his head at himself. “So you wouldn’t have had to worry.”

                “That would have been nice,” Merlin agrees icily.

                “I just—” Arthur sighs, cutting himself off. “Sometimes, when it all gets to be too much, I—I need to go somewhere else. Be really alone. And—unreachable. Just to clear my head. And I just didn’t think to tell you or leave a note or anything because I was so—worked-up. I’m sorry.”

                The anger starts to drain from Merlin; his shoulders begin to relax and he almost sets his book down. Then he remembers how it felt to come home to find Arthur _gone_ , maybe forever, after waiting for him for _so long_ —

                Merlin’s shoulders shoot back up. “Well, you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” he snaps. “I’ve stopped caring.”

                “What?” Arthur demands disbelievingly.

                “You heard me,” Merlin retorts. “I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want. No skin off my nose.”

                “Merlin,” Arthur drawls his name, rolling his eyes. “Come on, be sensible.”

                “I am being sensible,” Merlin counters. “If you’re going to do everything in your power to make this even more difficult than it has to be, if you’re going to go frolicking about without so much as a by-your-leave—”

                “I wasn’t ‘frolicking a-’”

                “If you’re going to make it seem like _I’m_ the crazy one,” Merlin barrels forward, “just for wanting to make sure you’re all right, after waiting over a thousand _bloody_ years for you, for your _ungrateful_ arse to come back, then fine!” He stops, taking a slow breath. Calmly, he declares, “I don’t care anymore. Isn’t that what you want? So I can stop mothering you?”

                “I—I don’t want you to stop caring,” Arthur says quietly, looking down at his feet.

                “Why not?” Merlin asks flippantly. “It’s not like _you_ care.”

                “I do care!”

                “Oh, please,” he scoffs. “All you’ve done since you’ve gotten back is complain. ‘Merlin, I don’t like the taste of these eggs, have they changed eggs?’ ‘Merlin, this fabric feels weird, don’t they have anything normal anymore?’ ‘Merlin, why is everything so _fast_ now, can you slow it all down?’ It’s _exhausting_ living with you, and you have no regard for what any of it does to me.”

                “Have you considered that all this hasn’t exactly been easy for me?”

                “Of course I know it hasn’t,” he snaps. “But it hasn’t been easy for me, either, and catering to your every whim whilst you barely spare time to say ‘thank you’ has not, in fact, made it any easier!”

                There’s a moment when they both just _look_ at each other, breathing hard, faces red. Then, Merlin turns his eyes back to his book, while his attention remains on Arthur. There’s a long-enough pause that Merlin almost wants to cave, just to tell Arthur to go away. But before he can, Arthur speaks.

                “I am sorry,” he says, brow furrowed, “for my behavior. I have been—rude. And I have not expressed how grateful and humbled I am to have you to—help me through all of this as—a friend. I will—endeavor to do better in the future. Truly, I am sorry for not making my gratitude better-known.”

                Merlin stares at Arthur, and blinks. Then blinks again. And again. Arthur has just issued a royal apology—one worthy of a lord or even a duke—to Merlin, of all people. Unless, of course, Merlin’s had a truly horrendous amount of ear-wax build up, and it’s making him hear insults all wrong. But no, Arthur has never looked at him so reverently while calling him an idiot. Arthur’s never looked at him so reverently ever, actually. He breathes in sharply at that realization, then slowly breathes out. Softly, he replies, “Thank you. I...I forgive you.”

                Arthur nods. “Thank you, for your forgiveness.” He turns to leave, then stops, and half-turns back. “I do care, Merlin. Even if I’m not good at showing it.”

                Merlin half-laughs, turning back to his book. “Yeah, all right.”

                “Really, Merlin,” Arthur insists, in a way that forces Merlin to meet his gaze. “I do. More than you know.” With that, he leaves the room.

                And that—that keeps Merlin up all night.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a fic for this ship based on this song for a while now, and this isn't quite what I was going for, so maybe I'll return to it one day. But I do like this for what it is.
> 
> Be sure to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed! And I'm always open to requests! :) <3


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